"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
08-02-2018, 12:11 AM (This post was last modified: 08-02-2018, 12:16 AM by Sinner.)
The void within calls out.
It demands—a command, never questioning.
He obeys without protest. The beast within him answers the calling of the void, leading him onto his path. A path of servanthood, searching and seeking to find the wielder, the harnesser of darkness.
There is a purpose to be had. A path that he seeks and must now be taken for he has grown too lazy. The world is too quiet.
The void… it hungers.
He hungers for it as well.
Within the shadows, the hound conceals himself. Slipping carefully through the darkness of the never-changing autumn forest he has come to call home. Red and yellow glowing eyes carefully scan the surroundings as he moves at a discreet pace—identical to an assassin within the night, never letting himself be notice until the moment is right.
The silence needed to be broken though.
His paws find comfort on the earthy ground of the forest floor. The hound’s claws dig deep into the soil, feeling each grain of the earth as if he is connected to the living thing itself. But he has little care for the world he finds himself in. This world was not his home, only a temporarily place holder that he finds himself in. He lacks the emotions to feel something for the well-being of those and its creatures that flourish in the world.
All he wanted was to see the world burn.
And he would someday.
The black beast scours the forest, twisting and turning around the kingdom’s trees. Without thought, he lunges forward at a quick pace and then into a run. He can feel the wind rush into him—against him as he is against the world, fighting the light. There is absolute comfort as he rushes against the prevailing winds, fighting against the forces that try to control him. Within his canine form there is peace.
A peace that can never be broken. The beast barely ever touches the body he was shaped and born to be in this world. His identity is lost when he reverts to the form of a horse. But when he is the wolf he is himself—he is powerful and feared.
He hunts, the void calling out to him.
And he answers it, the hunger within.
08-22-2018, 08:46 PM (This post was last modified: 08-22-2018, 08:47 PM by Kaurma.)
Kaurma
She was the beginning to an end.
The spawn of Deimos, the Dark Lord, himself and a temptress of many. There were few Karaugh hadn't fucked before her life was stolen from the living-being inside her. She had tempted fate one too many times, but all bad deeds catch up with you at some point. Especially when you abandon the Dark Lord's son for dead(her full brother). Casting him away like some trash on the beaches of Tephra. All because he was "weak"(ungifted). Well now Mother, hadn't the tides turned so violently...
Karma.
The creature of darkness made habit of traveling under the cloak of night or shadow of day. Unfortunately, with great powers comes weakness and hers is much too plentiful to avoid. A soft glimmer of daylight on bayed flesh would sting, but exposure prolonged, could send her up in an inferno, so it was best to avoid such things.
Newly of Loess, and formerly of Hyaline -born of Taiga-, the mare had extensive travel under her resume. Sylva though was something she was only linearly linked to. It was her mothers residing Kingdom, her half brothers and sisters bore here, but not Kaurma. No, the world had higher plans for her. To be more than the bottom feeder her mother had been.
Pitiful.
The sway of her back and arch of her neck was anything but typical for her breeding. Fine features, hidden from the light of day, was mostly seen by the creatures of night. Much like her, they preferred the darkness both of sight and mind. It was their purpose. Their true calling in life. When the wolves knocked at the door, they came readied with a grin plastered across their blood stained lips.
So today she ventures from her now kingdom and into the autumnal forests without a care for boundaries. Her keen senses, plucked intel from the area around her, like vultures to a carcass. She can feel his presence before amber eyes lay upon his canine exterior. She simply stopped and watched his lanky movements. Marveling in the carnivorous form, a cheeky grin spread wide across her lips and exposed her own set of canines. "And who might you be?" Is all she asked...
-What goes around,
comes around-
@[sinner] I can't just let a Sinner post go to waste
08-26-2018, 06:46 PM (This post was last modified: 08-26-2018, 06:46 PM by Sinner.)
There is a shift in the winds, the force he runs against.
He can smell the change of scent. It is unfamiliar and almost unwelcoming. The hound follows the scent, pursuing the unfamiliarity of it. It reeks the air he inhales, filling his nostrils and giving him life as it fills his lungs too. There is something dark and infiltrating about the scent.
With every movement, his paws hit the earthen forest floor with precision. His hungry eyes scour the forest with every turn he takes around, twisting through the forest trees. The hunger within feels him, calling him to move faster.
It is within the distance, eventually, that he sees her. Her bay figure stands out like a light within the dark, calling him forward.
He slows down, already feeling her amber gaze onto his own. The hellhound matches her own gaze, red-yellow glowing eyes never looking away. She marvels at him, like he is some sort of prize possession.
Sinner does not come to a stop, instead he circles around her. Allowing himself to study the bay mare. The hunger screams out in the hollow void within him. Her scent fills him even more now—stronger than ever. Saliva fills his mouth, dripping from the corners of his lips.
The fine featured mare grins at him, exposing her own set of canines. At last the bay mare speaks, and he comes to a standstill, directly facing her and never letting his gaze move away from her own.
There is something different about this creature that she has yet to put her proverbial finger on. Though he looked much like a member of the wolf packs she has seen before, they do not draw her attention the way this one does. A prickling up her spine puts her on alert and though she is curious of why, she is cautious.
His body is lithe against the hordes of trees that infest the land. It was beneficial to her, but to others she could see the annoyance. Even her sharp vision is spliced by the placement of bark and brush. Amber gaze continues to focus on the creatures daring approach and she commends him in her mind for his boldness.
She makes her inquiry short and to the point. There was no time for pleasantries in the land of the wicked. She is pleased to find his answer and follow up are just as punctual. The corner of her lips curl evermore before she engages his question, "A nightmare."
Amber eyes slide from his intense gaze to examine the structure of the hound. He was much larger than the typical feral dog, but otherwise he seemed normal. Clawed paws, bristled tail, a jaw lined with razor edged blades, perhaps he was also a nightmare. With a lift of her brow a single worded question leaves her lips, "you?"
Kaurma
What goes around, comes around
@[Sinner] So Kaurma likes collecting things from those she comes in contact with and compulses them to give her something(eye, claw, tooth, horn, flesh, blood... most currently sperm), if you have interest in the idea. If not, we can try the whole werewolf vs vampire thing too lol
Creatures of the darkness were always a curiosity for the beast. The mysteries each of them held within their dark core. Untold stories that did not fall from their tongues. Secrets that dared not even be whispered.
The hound is not cautious as she is with him. There is nothing that he fears from her. He is not driven by fear, but by the hunger within him.
Salvia drips from the corners of the black jaw of the brute. His eyes are fixated on her every movement. Every twitch and contraction that moves is noted.
“Nightmares are not so pretty,” he licks his chops, lapping up the saliva in the corner of his mouth, as his lips then curve up into a wide wolfish grin.
He continues to circle her. Studying every fine feature that builds her bay figure together, piece by piece to make the masterpiece (and disaster she might be).
At the sound of her next words, the black hound comes to a stop directly in front of her. “I have many names.” There is pride in his words. It rings loud in clear in the way he speaks and holds himself upright. Arrogance carried him and confidence guided him forward.
“Sinner is what they named me in hell,” he adds, eyes glistening with mischief.
Sienna eyes watch him with curious interest as he curls about her -the lanky way in which his body slinks about effortlessly. The bright coloring of the Sylva canopies matching the hues of his eyes that gauged her every movement, jaws dripping with a hunger she can't deny plagues him. She also hungers for the blood of others and so they are similar in at least one way.
She can't help but notice how he re-introduces himself with nothing but a name. Never leading on to what he was. She finds this unusual but like him, she offers her name, "I was named Kaurma by my father for killing my mother at birth..." This confession causes a demonic grin to form on her blackened lips. She then wonders if this creature, who talked of hell, knew her father, "You speak of hell. Perhaps you know of my father, Deimos?" She eagerly awaits a reaction to surface upon the wolves face...
09-15-2018, 01:09 PM (This post was last modified: 09-15-2018, 01:10 PM by Sinner.)
“Kaurma,” he tastes the name. It is sweet like honey at first, but there is something dangerous. Something that is addicting and consumes you.
He watches curiously at the way the devilish grin grows across her black lips. She is proud of the blood she has shed—a killer of her own mother. Pathetic creatures, he thinks to himself at the thought of his own mother.
“How magnificent,” he replies with a sinister grin.
At the sound of hell on her lips, his ears perk forward slightly. He listens carefully, though he does not consider her question really. It did not really peak his interest about names that clung to this world more than anything, but there is something here. Something the way she looks at him, with eagerness, that he should be scared.
Should he?
He does not feel scared. He does not crumble at the name of Deimos as others might. Perhaps he should. The hound considers it, but he is more curious of this Deimos nature. Was he a god of some sort? He has only ever met one god. The dark god called Carnage, who had marked him on his right shoulder. The wound had festered and left a claw mark, but it now has healed. Forever a scar will mark him though.
“I do not know a Deimos,” he says flatly, an unamused expression briefly touches his dark face. “I did not serve in hell, they threw me into his place before I could even walk, perhaps that is why I am not familiar with your father. Is he a god of some sort?”
Sinner tilts his head, eyes cautiously calculating her expression and listening to her next words.
@[Kaurma] LOL so yeah, I basically allowed him to reintroduce himself twice because I am silly and sometimes write posts when I am very sleepy xD But we can just go along with that fact that Sinner has not really told anyone what he is or where he came from and just refers to himself as Sinner for name and what he is
She is a twisted being, and rightfully so. To be the spawn of dark magic was just one side of her. To be born with the purpose of righting her mother's wrongs, was the other. Of course, death was brought on the bat-winged wench at her own doing. Abandoning the first child they(Deimos and Karaugh) had ever bore together because the child lacked gifts. Deimos had sought the ultimate punishment for the mare.
Karma.
Having been found and raised by her sister Solace, she had never grew a liking for the lighter deeds of the world. Light banished her to the shadows, containing her reach and thus her powers. Here though, in the shadowed forests, she could roam endlessly. Only one knowing her true weaknesses.
A twisted grin finds her face as the hound considers her. Tasting her name upon his own blood stained lips and wondering over all she asks. Certainly a creature of darkness would know of hell, of Deimos, but alas he denies any knowledge. A gentle shrug of her shoulder is given before she speaks, "I suppose you could say he was a dark god." He did harness dark magic afterall.
Her expression flattens as blood lust grows within her. She had come here with purpose, hadn't she? Oh yes, she was headed to Taiga. "I guess I best be going. I was going to visit my mother's corpse in Taiga... Gather a few bones for my collection..." She motions a step forward but before the hoof hits the turf, she has vanished...
Kaurma
What goes around, comes around
@[Sinner] This is way in the past timeline wise so if its ok we can end it here. Kaurma plans to return soon for a kingdomly visit
